Thistle

Grey stared at the dark sky, and then a particular thought crossed his mind: Mairi. The Thistle. The madness and stubbornness. The one thing he would never put out of his mind.

From the first time, there was something hidden beneath the curly red hair. The sky-blue eyes. The pale skin. The slender, perfectly shaped body, which she never really showed.

She was a strange girl. A very strange girl. She kept her messy hairdo like that, though occasionally a bit neater. She was very welcoming with a twist of madness, like (here comes the Alice reference) the Mad Hatter.

She bravely did things other people would not dare to do. He had heard about her taking a train without tickets with Liz, wandering in the tower way past curfew, and other things. Was it the stubbornness thing? He wasn’t sure.

She was very determined too, since he also wandered past curfew the other day and peeked through the small window on the door and saw her still doing her homework, and there was another time when she was caught wandering around in the library late at night, searching for information on something that he didn’t know. She risked getting the Winter house in trouble by getting minus fifty points and serving another detention just to get her work done!

All that, especially the last thought, might be a bit too long for a short description. But Grey didn’t mind. Without the quite long (but not mile-long) description, it felt like there’s something missing. Like it was not complete. And even now it’s not complete. Then he thought the last thought of her for the day: everyone might say she’s Thistle, but for him, she’s the Thistle, with the Scottish stubbornness and all.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Image source:
http://www.visitscotland.com/about/arts-culture/uniquely-scottish/thistle

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